


Safe and Warm

by Ellerigby13



Series: 2019 Valentine's Date-a-palooza [12]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Date Night, F/M, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 10:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18164282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellerigby13/pseuds/Ellerigby13
Summary: Arthur takes his lady out for a night on the town.  By the time they finish dinner and a show, Arthur insists that it's far too late to head back to camp.  He meets no resistance.A criminally late Valentine's Date-a-palooza <3





	Safe and Warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ssupeck21](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ssupeck21).



It had been late when the show finally ended, and Arthur had firmly insisted against riding all the way back to Shady Belle at this time of night.  He’d tried to scare you with horror stories of the Lemoyne Raiders that had ambushed him on his trips in and out of town, and you’d nearly convinced yourself and him that  _ that _ was the reason your heart was beating in your throat, and your eyes had gone light and glassy with adrenaline.

Nearly.

Just like how you nearly toppled over when dismounting your horse outside the Bastille Saloon, and how Arthur’s hand nearly closed over your hip when he caught you.

Like how you were nearly shaking with anticipation on the way up the stairs to the room -  _ room, singular, with a bed and a fireplace and a door that locked and blankets that would keep you warm as you tangled yourselves together  _ \- that Arthur had rented for the two of you, your hand on his arm as he led you across the fine hardwood floor and turned an ornate brass handle.

“I can sleep on the floor if - ”

“Arthur,” you said, firm but soft, closing the door behind you and then pressing your hands to either side of his chest.  He stiffened at your touch, but a gentle pink blush began to glow in his cheeks. You could nearly feel the tension building in the air between you, the pull of his body to yours, as though he could call to you without words, sing to you without opening his mouth for a single note.  His eyes flickered down the length of your face and then back up, his tongue darting out to wet the tender, chapped sliver of his lower lip. When your voice returned to you, it was shaking. “I - I don’t want to sleep. Not yet.”

He didn’t need to ask what you meant by that, based on the way that he’d drawn closer to you, one curious hand grazing the curve of your jaw and the other slowly pinching your blouse where it tucked into your skirt.  His eyes were dark and heavy and lustful, and you could taste the rich sting of that Scottish whiskey on his breath. His lips were rough on yours, whiskey and smoke and the warm flush of his tongue as it slid along the crease of your mouth.

“Darlin’,” he growled into you, and you could feel him thumb your blouse out of your skirt, his fingernail scraping the hard fabric of your corset.  “Taste like heaven.”

You lifted your arms for him to pull the blouse up over your head, the glorious feeling of the fabric sliding up and off you.  Arthur peeled loose the buttons on your skirt next, then the thick layers of your petticoat and bloomers. When you were mostly naked, standing before him shivering in only your chemise and corset, you closed your hand over his wrist.

“Let me touch you.”  A thin brush of hair peeked out from the collar of his fine, pressed black shirt, and you let your fingers skim across it on their way to undoing his buttons.  He had a broad, strong chest, and something fluttered in your stomach at the way his muscles flexed and tensed with every twitch of your fingers.

“Ohh, honey.”  A deep, guttural sound formed in his throat, but you didn’t let up, your fingernails ghosting down the hard lines of his stomach and then digging into his belt loops, prying open his buckle.  When you’d finally freed him from his pants, he bobbed against your chin, thick and dark and greedy.

“Shh,” you hummed, wrapping your lips around him.  He threaded his fingers through your hair as you took him deeper into your mouth, brushing the back of your throat with the blunt head of his cock.  Arthur bucked into your kiss, and you watched him tilt his head back to gasp into the evening air. Then, he held his breath as he looked down at you, listening, as you were, to the crackling of the fire behind you and the vulgar and somehow so enticing noise of him hitting the back of your throat.

You’d closed your eyes when he whispered, “stop.”

The gentle touch of Arthur’s fingers on your bare arms made you shiver, but he watched you release him, watched you get your feet beneath you - before pulling you to his chest and sinking into the impossible plush of the bed behind him.  His lips found yours hungrily, and his hands pressed into the dimples of your hips, pressed you closer to him so he could grind his naked cock against the sensitive bud between your thighs.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he hummed into the tender spot below your earlobe, his nimble hands undoing the laces of your corset and then peeling it away from your body, followed by your chemise.  You were exposed now, skin, vulnerable. Arthur traced his way down your front with open-mouthed kisses, his tongue hot as it rolled across each nipple, the calluses on his hands rough as they scraped the tops of your thighs, then parted them.

“Arthur.”  You hooked your finger under the head of his dick and pressed it to your soft, wet opening.  When he lifted his head to meet your gaze, you could see clear as day your reflection in his eyes, and the whispering flames behind you.  “Please.”

It didn’t take much goading for him to slide into you, inch by painfully slow inch, until you’d sunk completely onto his cock and he’d finally bottomed out inside you.  “ _ My _ girl,” he murmured, almost harshly, digging his beard into the spot above your collarbone, and began to rock you on top of him.  As if suddenly remembering how good he felt inside you, you wiggled your hips into his thrusts, rubbing your clit deliciously against his front.  “How’s that feel, darlin’?”

“Fuck, Arthur,” you breathed, picking up your pace until your breasts bounced for him, and watched his eyes follow the rapid arc of their rhythm.  He reached forward, closing one hand over your hip and the other over your tit, his thumb pushing your nipple in a firm circle. You watched his tongue curve across his chapped lower lip and dared to lean down and stop it, catching his lips on yours as you rolled your hips into his.

Neither of you lasted long.  Not in each other’s arms, not with each other’s mouths hot and wet and slammed together.  Not with the way you’d waited, both of you, so long to have the other like this, alone and warm and safe like this.

You came tight around his thick and hardened cock, him very nearly holding you up, your index and middle fingers pushing into your swollen clit until the white waves of ecstasy rolled a strangled scream from your lips.

Arthur came hard and long inside you, gripping you so tightly by the hips his fingers were sure to leave bruises, but neither of you were wont to care.  After he rode out the high of his orgasm, he caught you as you fell into him, chests heaving with the deep breaths of your pleasures. When you caught your wind again, you rested your forehead on his, the hints of a smile pulling at the corners of your lips,

“That’s a hell of a way to show a lady the town, Mr. Morgan.”

He kissed you again, grinning.  “Sweetheart, I ain’t even got started.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed <3


End file.
